As she set her dog-eared copy of Auguste Rodin: Sculptures and Drawings on one of the desks, her phone pinged.
Sebastian: I need to move the car
Edie: be right down
“Want to grab lunch before unpacking?” she asked.
Shonda waved her toward the door.
“You guys should go enjoy your last hour alone.”
“It’s not our last hour,” Edie said. “We’ll see each other in a couple weeks.”
Shonda eyed the bunk beds as a wry smile rounded her cheeks.
“Are we going to have to work out some ridiculous scarf-on-the-doorknob code for when I’m allowed to enter on weekends?”
“No way. You’re allowed in anytime you like.”
Edie wasn’t about to shut her friend out. She was a college student now. She didn’t have time for boys. She was focusing on her education.
Mostly.
Acknowledgments
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A few essential thank-yous:
To Jennifer Gadda, without whom this book never would’ve been written. For all the hours spent discussing Jane Austen, love, life, and art. For being one of those rare souls you know will always be there for you, no matter what.
To the friends and family who allow me to go through life with the certainty of a safety net. It’s a gift and a privilege. I love you.
To my agent, Laura Bradford, for believing in my work, getting it into the right hands, and answering a zillion questions.
To my editor, Emilia Rhodes, and the entire team at HMH for seeing the story within the words, for providing patient insight, and for taking an idea and making it into a book.
To Maggie de Vries, Annabel Lyon, and Maureen Bayless for talking me off ledges, helping me bridge plot holes, and guiding me through the roughest patches of self-doubt.
To my beta readers and critique partners, who provided the perfect balance of critical input, warm-hearted support, and good, old-fashioned tough love: Arlene Avila, Meagan Black, Michael Goertzen, Dechen Khangkar, Mica Lemiski, Lauren Maguire, Anita Miettunen, Gillian Murschell, Emily Pohl-Weary, Kailash Srinivasan, Shannon Walsh, and Yilin Wang. It takes a village. A really, really awesome village.
To all the girls who don’t walk through life wielding swords with the strength of a natural-born warrior. The girls who struggle sometimes. The girls who don’t feel good enough. Be you, the one only you can be, made of all your triumphs, mistakes, and heartbreaks. You are your sword. Wield it well.
hmhteen.com
About the Author
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Photo credit: Tallulah
JACQUELINE FIRKINS is a writer, costume designer, and lover of beautiful things. She’s on the full-time faculty of the Department of Theatre & Film at the University of British Columbia, where she also takes any writing class they’ll let her into. When not obsessing about where to put the buttons or the commas, she can be found running by the ocean, eating excessive amounts of gluten, listening to earnest love songs, and pretending her dog understands every word she says.
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Hearts, Strings, and Other Breakable Things Page 29
